A friend just recently told me about this story. My father built fences for a living here in central NC. He wouldn't stand for a post to be out of line, and built a reputation on that. He didn't advertise; his reputation for honesty and quality work was all he needed. He took pride in his work, and satisfying his customers, mostly farmers and ranchers. Sadly, a heart attack took him away from us at age 48 back in 1997. Farmers and cattlemen around here still miss that quality work he did. Thank you for sharing this.
Red you are a true Cowboy Poet. Your one of my HEROs. If I had the ability and opportunity to roll the clock back I would change the course of my life and go south to Texas and chase the Cowboy life on a true ranch. God Bless you Red.
The Guitar added the the right feel , and every time When I listen to to this Poem , Like a Rudyard Kipling Poem it draws a tear to my Eye . not from sadness but from Pride , because my dad whooped the Right attitude in to my Hide , Do it right the First time my son , Clean your tools and look back at on your work with Pride , maybe no one will ever notice how perfect the fence was planned , or the effort it took to build that fence or even that there is a fence even there , but the care and exacting work you did . you will look on it every time you ride past there , and years later when you lay your head down for the last time and with all your soul , callused hands and worn out body , You'll know you were a man worth his salt and if you did it right the first time , there will be no fault found in you , and long after you are gone that fence will still stand the the test of time , That Fence Strong Straight and True long past your last good night . Today We have a Shortage of Skilled , Ethical Tradesmen and Sadly I fear that America has lost this Very Honorable Quality .
A friend just recently told me about this story. My father built fences for a living here in central NC. He wouldn't stand for a post to be out of line, and built a reputation on that. He didn't advertise; his reputation for honesty and quality work was all he needed. He took pride in his work, and satisfying his customers, mostly farmers and ranchers. Sadly, a heart attack took him away from us at age 48 back in 1997. Farmers and cattlemen around here still miss that quality work he did. Thank you for sharing this.
Red you are a true Cowboy Poet. Your one of my HEROs. If I had the ability and opportunity to roll the clock back I would change the course of my life and go south to Texas and chase the Cowboy life on a true ranch. God Bless you Red.
Awesome ……a lesson for life .
Nothing looks better than a fence built right. Nothing looks worse than a fence built wrong .
The Guitar added the the right feel , and every time When I listen to to this Poem , Like a Rudyard Kipling Poem it draws a tear to my Eye . not from sadness but from Pride , because my dad whooped the Right attitude in to my Hide , Do it right the First time my son , Clean your tools and look back at on your work with Pride , maybe no one will ever notice how perfect the fence was planned , or the effort it took to build that fence or even that there is a fence even there , but the care and exacting work you did . you will look on it every time you ride past there , and years later when you lay your head down for the last time and with all your soul , callused hands and worn out body , You'll know you were a man worth his salt and if you did it right the first time , there will be no fault found in you , and long after you are gone that fence will still stand the the test of time , That Fence Strong Straight and True long past your last good night . Today We have a Shortage of Skilled , Ethical Tradesmen and Sadly I fear that America has lost this Very Honorable Quality .
Lots of truth hidden away in those lines 👍
Every time I hear this poem I think of an old Friend I worked with was his name was Connie Arnett he was truly someone to ride a river with
Really like the poem
That was excellent!
Just. Right.
My wife ask what does a cowboy do and I played for her your poem